


Family Matters

by novel_concept26



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-14
Updated: 2011-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-06 15:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novel_concept26/pseuds/novel_concept26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jesse agreed to meet Finn's family, he didn't realize how protective they were of Finn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Matters

Title: Family Matters  
Pairing: Finn Hudson/Jesse St. James  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Nothing owned, no profit gained.  
Spoilers: Through S2.  
Summary: When Jesse agreed to meet Finn's family, he didn't realize how protective they were of Finn.  
A/N: Funny story, the reason I never wrote a Jesse pairing is because half the world spells his name with an “I” and I didn’t want to fight those people. HAH. Anyway. Pinch-hit fill for the rare-pairs exchange.

Relationships don’t _usually_ begin when one previously-heterosexual boy takes a violent swing at another, getting them both kicked out of junior Prom, but hey—no story is perfect. Surely anyone dating Finn Hudson has their share of issues, and Jesse St. James is absolutely no exception.

Well. Kind of an exception. He _is_ a four-time National-award-winning performer. One with exceptional hair, stellar talent, and a Kristin Chenoweth-issued restraining order, no less.

What? Like just _anyone_ could have swept Finn into the throes of _Brokeback_ love?

Anyway, it’s not the way most stories begin, but there was a certain beautiful drama to the whole thing that Jesse finds more than a little poetic. A fight for the honor of a maiden (not that Rachel asked either of them to) resulting in abject violence and expulsion—he couldn’t have asked for a more engaging night.

Things probably would have gone a little differently if not for the fact that neither boy wanted to leave McKinley grounds until Rachel had emerged. You learn a lot about a person, sitting beside them on stone steps for two hours; once the glowering and the kicking of rocks had settled into Finn slouching on the stoop, all sorts of things had come out. His frustrating feelings, which wavered between Quinn’s classic beauty and Rachel’s ingénue allure. His nervousness about the upcoming Nationals event. His fear of dancing, of leadership, of never quite being enough.

A lot slips out of a person when his guard is down. Jesse can appreciate that.

He still isn’t sure how they translated their relationship from loathing…to confessing secrets…to… _this_. It certainly didn’t make Rachel terribly happy. Or Quinn, for that matter.

Santana seemed to find it pretty funny, but it’s not like she has the right to say a word. He spotted her kissing that other blonde chick—the one with the duck-patterned jacket?—in her car last week.

Honestly, for small-town Ohio, this school is _crawling_ with gays.

None of it matters, though, because Finn is actually a really good guy. Interesting, too, and funny. Maybe not the cleverest of leading men, but Jesse figures he’s got enough brilliance to suit them both. And the way Finn kisses definitely makes up for—

Things are good. Enjoyable. They have attended several films, a concert that Finn is deeply excited about (Jesse, less so), and a dish-painting event (also Finn’s ideas; Jesse makes a silent note to start planning the dates from now on). It’s sort of like dating Rachel, except there is less delving into baby boxes and coming up with mommy issues.

Also, Finn’s hands are considerably bigger.

The only problem now is that they’re in a relationship. A _real_ one; Finn insisted he didn’t dump his perfect girlfriend (and give up on the girl of his dreams besides) just to dick around with some dude. If they’re going to do this, they have to go the whole nine yards (or whatever; Jesse really wasn’t listening to the sports metaphors), which means…

Family.

Because, it turns out, Finn happens to be a family sort of guy. Not to mention he has realized that Jesse has something of a…track record…the kind that implies a wake of broken hearts and lives thoughtlessly toyed with. Finn’s logic is simple: a dinner with the family will prove Jesse’s conviction enough for Finn to trust this like the real relationship they’re aiming for. He just has to pass this test.

Jesse really has no idea how to feel about this.

It’s not that he isn’t good with parents; that would be suggesting Jesse St. James could fail at _anything_ , which is just idiotic. He’s charming enough to make anyone’s parental units fall for him, no questions asked. The thing is, Finn’s parents? They’re not like normal-people parents. Or, maybe more accurately (and more problematic), they are _expressly_ normal. The epitome of normal, in fact.

They’re sitcom parents. The dutiful, loyal father. The loving, intelligent mother. These are the kinds of people who would never star in the likes of _Next to Normal_ ; they’re too _ordinary_.

But the good kind. He thinks. The kind that produce the likes of Finn Hudson, who, for all his bumbling and ridiculously hypocritical ways, is very sweet. And kind of sexy. And has successfully, without even trying, steered Jesse away from bra straps and leading ladies.

He agrees, mostly because Finn is giving him that kicked-puppy look that sometimes leads to surprisingly engaging make-out sessions.

It should be easy, he convinces himself over the next couple of days. A little bowing, a few jokes, maybe a song over cheesecake. They’ll be eating out of the palm of his hand.

He just fails to factor in one teensy, tiny, flaming detail.

Finn Hudson is the newly-inducted half-brother of one Kurt Hummel.

And Kurt Hummel? Is a ridiculously volatile bitch.

Things fall apart almost immediately.

The Hummel-Hudson home is immaculate when he arrives, a beautiful, pristine example of modern suburbia. The television is of mid-to-adequate size, the carpeting freshly vacuumed. The plates set out on the clean tablecloth are clearly not ideal china, but Jesse notes their elegance all the same. It is a nice, comfortable location for his first foray into Finn Hudson’s private life.

Burt Hummel shakes his hand firmly, not unkind, but rather terse all the same. Carole Hudson, with her gentle smile and eagle-sharp eyes, greets him with a nod and a hug. Finn, obviously nervous, shuffles from one foot to the other.

“Guys, Jesse. Jesse, Mom and Burt.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Jesse says cheerfully, pasting on a fraction of his usual megawatt showface. Burt’s eyebrows clutch together over solemn eyes.

“You’re that, uh, Carmel High kid. The pink shirt? Piano?”

“'Bohemian Rhapsody', 2010,” Jesse agrees, head bobbing. “A classic performance. One of our best.”

“Not bad,” Burt says grudgingly, though his eyes plainly claim, _My kids were better_. Not true in the least, but there isn’t a point in arguing just now. Not when Finn is shooting him a pleading look, one hand tapping upon his mother’s shoulder.

“How’s dinner comin’, Mom?”

“Done,” Carole replies. “I hope you’re all right with spaghetti, Jesse. We didn’t know what you like, but that’s Finn’s favorite.”

“Please,” a new voice rings out from the staircase. “I think we all know Finn will mow down anything remotely edible without a second thought. He’s more useful than a labrador in that respect.”

“Kurt.” Jesse smiles. “Good to see you again. You’re looking…dapper.”

“As always,” the boy replies with a smile that doesn’t entirely reach his eyes. His gaze flicks over Jesse in a full-body scan, taking in the neatly-pressed black button-down, the rolled-up jeans, the black boots. “I must ask: were you going for the James Dean effect, or is that simply incidental?”

An insult. How quaint and predictable. Jesse allows his expression of false pleasure to deepen even as Burt claps a hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezes, guiding them calmly to the kitchen.

The burly step-father hates him already. Somehow, despite his mountainous self-esteem, this does not shock Jesse. It’s clear that Burt Hummel is the sort of man who chooses sides quickly and without much intent to change his mind.

And Kurt is looking at him more or less like he’s considering jabbing a fork into Jesse’s eye.

At least Carole seems nice.

Finn catches his arm—not his hand; Finn’s not really a hand-hold kind of guy—and smiles reassuringly. It’s clear that he is more than a little nervous from the way his jaw keeps popping, his eyes darting from mother to step-brother and back around again. Jesse resists a sigh.

“This looks delicious,” he offers politely, ignoring the way Kurt is staring him down. “Thanks very much, Mrs. Hudson.”

He waits for her to smile adoringly, gracing him with a gentle, “Call me Carole,” but the words never come. She only nods, lips bending lightly, and thanks him. His heart sinks slightly. Seriously? She doesn’t like him either?

Apart from a slight history of stealing Finn’s girlfriend away, he hasn’t even _done_ anything.

It would have been nice to know going in, he thinks with mild irritation, that Finn’s family is the most protective little bundle of Midwest out there. Sure, he expected Kurt to be frustrating, but the adults should have been a cakewalk. He shouldn’t be sitting here, twirling noodles onto a fork, completely devoid of conversation topics.

And Burt should stop sizing him up like they’re going to engage in a post-dinner boxing match.

Finn’s leg drums against the floorboards as he anxiously shovels food in his mouth without bothering to chew. This is Jesse’s boyfriend, and the poor guy seems inclined to choke himself before they really get to the good parts. It’s such a waste. Against all likelihood, Jesse actually feels genuinely good about their relationship, and no over-protective family is going to tear that down. He is just going to have to up his game a little.

“I would like you all to know,” he announces, placing his fork neatly down and folding his hands on the table, “that I find your son—and brother—wonderful in every way.”

Burt’s throat convulses like he’s expecting torrid gay-sex details. Kurt’s eyebrows arch for what Jesse assumes is exactly the same reason. Finn’s eyes widen.

“Well,” Carole manages to say brightly, “that’s very nice. Thank you, Jesse.”

“I’m serious,” he presses onward. They aren’t taking him at his word, he can tell, and although he can’t fault them for their mistrust, it’s a little irritating. “Finn Hudson is a beautiful man.”

 _Beautiful man_. Not a phrase he’s ever uttered before—well, outside of discussing the talents of John Barrowman or Taye Diggs, anyway—but it could be worse. Under the table, Finn’s leg lashes out, foot stomping down on Jesse’s boot. He ignores him.

Kurt seems somewhat amused. “Beautiful man?”

“Exceptional, even,” Jesse continues boldly. “You have raised a stalwart individual, Mrs. Hudson. He is kind, and thoughtful, and loyal to the last. His relationship with Rachel may have been deeply flawed—“

“Understatement,” Kurt mutters, mouth snapping closed when his brother fires a glare across the placemats.

“—but it stemmed from a good, solid foundation. I care for your son a great deal, and I think it’s important that you know that.” Jesse sucks in a breath, preparing himself for the big finish. A scene like this requires dedication, empathy, and best of all—

Props.

He stands abruptly, chair screeching backwards, and digs from his pocket a small gold medallion. Finn is staring at the ceiling, no longer chewing; Jesse suspects this is what Quinn Fabray looked like the night Finn himself belted out the truth of her pregnancy in front of her parents. That particular story—and Finn’s hangdog expression while telling it—earned him quite the enjoyable evening.

He can only hope this moment will work more in their favor.

“This,” he announces, holding the medallion up and letting it swing, “is my first National award, earned for magnificence in show choir and outstanding solo work. I carry it for luck.”

“ _You_ believe in luck?” Kurt asks, disbelieving. Jesse allows himself a shrug.

“Common practice in theater. Superstition is what keeps our blood pumping.”

Kurt offers him a _yeah, okay, fair_ kind of nod in response. Squaring his shoulders, Jesse returns to his impromptu monologue.

“This medallion has gotten me through a number of subsequent competitions—all successful—as well as auditions, theater exams, and the occasional party. It has had extraordinary benefits on my life. And now, I think it’s best that you have it.”

Reaching across the table, he presses the gold coin into Carole’s hand. Surprise darts across her face, arm automatically reaching to return it.

“That’s very nice, sweetie, but we can’t accept—“

“It’s a token,” he explains firmly, “of trust. I trust you to care for my most prized possession, and that trust exists only because I intend fully to repay it in kind. I’m aware of how much you love Finn, Mrs. Hudson. I understand, because I see what you see when you look at him. He is a prize. I want you to understand that I intend to treat him as such.”

Finn is leaning back in his chair now, inhaling so deeply, Jesse half-expects his lungs to explode. His face burns with what is likely a combination of embarrassment and arousal; Jesse hides a smirk, turning instead to see how the Hummel men have taken his proclamation.

“Well,” Burt stammers, clearing his throat. “That’s, uh. Some show of affection there.”

“Dramatic,” Kurt fills in, which Jesse assumes is a compliment. He inclines his head.

“I just need you to know that I’m taking what your son and I are building seriously. I understand that I’ve made mistakes in the past, and maybe it will take a while for trust to really flow between us, but I hope to work on it quickly. If you’re all right with that.”

He sits, patting Finn’s thigh. Carole Hudson is looking at him with a strange sort of contained awe now, turning the medallion over and over in her hands.

“Would you like dessert?” she asks finally, voice gentler than before. “Carrot cake?”

“Please,” he answers, smiling. Burt makes a grunting noise.

“So, Jesse. You going to college?”

“Taking time off,” he replies smoothly, which is only half a lie. Finn is visibly relaxing beside him as the tension in the room drips away, and there seems no point in explaining his “flunked out” situation. “I’m actually sticking around McKinley for a while.”

“Dad, Jesse is acting as a consultant,” Kurt explains, “for Glee. He’s helping us prep for Nationals.”

Some warm admiration seems to undercut the words, which is odd; Kurt has never verbally appreciated a thing Jesse has done for his choir. Maybe that speech really did the trick for everyone.

Not that Burt is leaping up to guide him to the couch for a rousing basketball viewing, and Carole isn’t exactly requesting his help in the kitchen, but it’s a start. No one seems so inclined to cut his throat anymore.

The rest of the evening goes much more smoothly. Conversation steadily moves back and forth around the table, carrot cake is consumed, and stories are swapped. Jesse regales them all with tales from his Carmel High days, which Finn and Kurt bat back with their own. Burt details his day at the garage, telling jokes none of the boys really get. Carole kisses his cheek, plainly amused by his bluster.

They really are quite the nice family, Jesse thinks, once their guard is lowered. He can see why Finn loves them so much.

When it comes time to leave, Carole gives him another hesitant little hug. He beams at her, standing tall.

“Thanks for everything, Mrs. Hudson.”

“Carole,” she replies, looking like she’s not sure she should have said it. He nods, clasping her hand before turning to Burt.

“We’ll be seeing you around, then.” It isn’t a question. Mr. Hummel looms large, his mouth tensing and loosening around the words. Jesse executes his best about-face.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Maybe we’ll do a barbeque next time. S’getting to that time of year.”

Finn’s eyes light up. “Oh man, definitely.”

“Sounds great,” Jesse agrees, slipping an arm subtly around his boyfriend’s waist and squeezing. Finn’s fingers twitch; now that the hard part of the evening is over, he is clearly itching to get to Jesse’s car and wish him a goodnight.

Making an uncomfortable little noise, Burt takes the hint and guides his wife back to the living room. Finn turns to the door immediately.  
“Just a second,” Kurt’s voice drawls. “Finn, if I may? A moment?”

Looking the very picture of a deer in headlights, Finn backs down the hall, arms raised. “Sure, dude. Call when you’re done.”

It is unkind, Jesse thinks, for a man to leave his boyfriend alone like this, but then again—it’s _Kurt_. The kid is an utter bitch, but there isn’t an ounce of physical strength in his body. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Jesse reclines against the front door and crosses his arms over his chest as Finn’s brother comes in close, smiling thinly.

“Jesse.”

“Kurt.”

“Finn seems to like you a lot,” Kurt observes. “A startling amount, in fact, given his violent episode at Prom.”

Jesse’s shoulders lift and drop. “Fine line between love and hate, I suppose.”

“Right.” Kurt’s head hangs for a second, his shoulders shaking slightly with light laughter. “Ah. I really don’t get it.”

“What’s to get?” _I’m fantastic._

Kurt shakes his head, fingers playing along his own collar. “Your pairing doesn’t make an whit of sense, and I think you know that. Truthfully, if anyone should have turned Finn to the fabulous side, I would have expected it to be—“

“You?” Jesse guesses. Kurt’s eyes flash for a moment.

“Nevertheless,” he says calmly, “that time is well-past. No hard feelings in that regard, not in the slightest. I only think of Finn as a brother now—a well-meaning, mildly dense brother—and from that perspective, I would like to be clear.”

A small hand flashes out, catching hold of Jesse’s shirt and jerking him close. Mouth going dry, he instantly takes back the jab at Kurt’s physical presence; the boy’s grip is dangerously firm.

“If you hurt him,” Kurt intones, voice low and somehow still sweet, “I will not hesitate to strike in retribution. The entire club, in fact, will find you within a day and remove whatever shred of man-dignity you happen to possess. Should there be a single instance of egg throwing, punching matches, or psychological trauma, I assure you—you will rue the day. Are we understood?”

“Crystal clear,” Jesse manages, leaning back against the doorframe. Kurt releases him, smiling.

“Very good. Treat my brother like a prince, St. James. It really is in your best interest.”

He turns and saunters back down the hall, calling for Finn. Jesse straightens up, adjusting his shirt collar and frowning.

“You okay?” Finn asks, brow drawn uncertainly. Jesse nods.

“Swell. Your family is, uh…”

Brown eyes light up instantly. “They’re great, huh? They seem to really like you a lot!”

Over Finn’s shoulder, he can see Kurt’s devilish little smile and, behind him, Burt’s hawk-intense stare. He swallows.

“Yeah. They’re fantastic. We’re all going to get along.”

He allows Finn to lead him, a happily bounding puppy, out the door, feeling all the while the burn of eyes on his back. Finn Hudson is truly a wonderful person. His family, on the other hand…

Jesse makes a note to start locking his window at night.


End file.
